Flora
by bella-writer
Summary: Chapter Two is up! Logan's POV. Mild S1 and S2 spoilers. Mostly about Logan and Lilly's relationship with hints of VD, LoVe. Feedback is love so R
1. Chapter 1

_October 6, 2003_

I bought Lilly a lily today, the day of her funeral. As her best friend, I figured it would be correct, right, to bring the flower that is her namesake. Well, apparently, everyone else thought that was a witty and original idea too, so as Lilly's coffin was being lowered down, a rainfall of lilies fell down into the ground also.

It felt odd, watching the rain of white lilies with pink tips fall down into the moist ground. It felt weird knowing that it isn't Lilly the 75-year-old with 15 cats that hated little children that was in the coffin, but that it is Lilly, my Lilly. The Lilly that told me red satin strapless dresses are the way to go. The Lilly that would spend endless nights ranting on why Logan's awesome/horrible or why Duncan and I haven't gone all the way yet. The Lilly that was the glue of our friendship, making us laugh so hard we cried. It was my spunky, sexy, fun-loving best friend in the beautifully carved wooden casket.

On the almost same level, it felt weird to see Duncan's face so blank, his eyes showing little emotion. It felt weird to feel Logan's hand gripping mine so tight that I could feel the bruises forming and my fingers losing circulation. It was as if Logan and Duncan switched roles. Logan became vulnerable with showing his emotion, while Duncan closed off and emotionless.

As I placed the last lily, after everyone, except Logan who was still gripping my hand like I was his life support, was gone, I realized, this isn't right. If Lilly saw this, a bunch of lilies laid on her grave only because her name is Lilly, she would have picked them up and thrown them in the garbage and mutter to herself, or rant at me, about how no one could think of anything more creative and simply more 'Lilly'.

So as Logan finally let go, the blood finally rushed back to my fingers, I promised her and myself, that next year I'd get something more 'Lilly'. That next year, as Duncan stood in the sidelines again and as Logan searched for something to hold onto, if only for a second, I'd place something Lilly would approve of.

_October 3, 2004_

A year ago I stood in this exact spot, fingers bruising slightly, lily in my hand and Lilly in my head, promising for something better.

I think I failed again.

This time, I placed a dahlia, a beautiful pink one with hints of purple. When I saw it at the florists I figured, Lilly loves pink. She thought both purple and pink were sexy and wild colors. This flower is anything but sexy or exotic. And the bright pinkness would make a My Little Pony gag.

This time, I was alone. I would have given anything to let mom and dad stand by me like they did last year. I would give anything to feel like my fingers were going to fall off because of Logan's death grip. I would have given anything to feel, or not feel, anything from Duncan's blank eyes. I would have given anything to not feel so alone and like a failure.

I don't know how long I stood in the rain, holding the dahlia. But somehow Wallace got me back into the car and back into my house. As I we were driving out of the parking lot, I swear I could see an obnoxious yellow X-terra.

Next year will be different. Next year I'd think harder.

_October 4, 2005_

I told Duncan I would meet him there. He asked why I would want to go the day after the memorial, and I just shot him a glare. This was my tradition, and I had to prove to Lilly, to myself, that I could do something as simple as picking the right flower.

I brought a small bouquet of daisies. Lilly loved to make daisy chains. On hot summer days when Logan and Duncan would dive and splash around in the Kane pool, she and I would watch them and make daisy chains. By the end of the day we'd have anklets, bracelets, necklaces and headbands for the two of us, our boys, the Kanes, and the 15 members of the Kane housekeeping staff. Daisies seemed correct.

I thought of daisies a couple of days after last year's visit with the damn dahlia, and again a couple days after visiting Lilly's grave after finding out about Aaron. So, I saved up the idea of daisies on her grave on her second year anniversary.

As I placed them in a small vase that held dead flowers when Duncan and I got there, I realized: This isn't right. This isn't Lilly enough.

I keep telling myself, it's just flowers, it's the thought that counts, nothing to beat myself up over, but it's more than that.

I place a hand on the tomb stone, saying one more quick good bye and head back to my car where Duncan's waiting. As I walked back, out of the corner of my eye I swear I could see a tall figure in orange by Lilly's grave.

_October 3, 2006_

I'm missing two days of school, but it's the Kane's scholarship money, not mine, so I think dad won't mind me missing out on two days of lessons in those Ivy League halls.

I think I finally did it right. I think I finally picked something that would make Lilly smile and say, "See? That's something original. That's Lily. And that's why you're my best friend, Veronica Mars."

Duncan's sitting in his car when Logan and I pull into the parking lot. His face turns and brightens a bit as he sees us climb out of the yellow monster with wheels. I run over to him, I haven't seen him since August, when he left for Oxford, and I headed towards Yale. We kept in touch through letters and e-mail, but it isn't enough with someone like Duncan, someone who you share so much history with. I give him a hug, a huge, loving, bear hug. Logan is behind me, wearing orange again, something Lilly hated and loved all at once.

After senior year, before university, we packed into our little group again. Yes, Logan and I were, and still are, together, but Duncan got over it and realized that I'm not the same Veronica. We became tighter than ever in our friendship, and I pulled them into my tradition.

We reached the gravesite. It's been three years. Three years and I still haven't gotten it right. Three years. Lilly would be proud though, nonetheless.

I stood, the side of my face squished into Logan's arm, as he held my hand, squeezing it slightly like he did three years ago. We stared at her for a few seconds. I thought of everything in the last three years. All the drama, all the angst, romance, fighting, mystery. Everything. And I finally feel like it's better. Yes, Lilly is gone and yes, I'll miss her more than anyone will ever know, but it feels right, finally.

I placed down the bouquet. I finally realized one flower couldn't sum Lilly up. Just like those essays in the second grade on your best friend, a two-paragraph limit isn't enough.

Passion Flower for her originality and 'Lilly-ness'. A violet for Lilly's strength. A deep red rose for her romantic side. A snowdrop for her endurance. An orange tulip for her colorful personality. A kudzu for her love of purple and difference. I added some daisies and dahlias, just for the memories and good times. And finally, a lily, just because a bouquet of Lilly without her namesake isn't really complete.

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Love it? Hate it? Review it! 3 


	2. Chapter 2

I updated. That's right. I updated. Some people wanted some sort of an update, so here it is. Part two. This is Logan's point of view on the events. I don't think I captured his character very well, so please R&R and tell me if it needs some tweaking. Also, I know this is very short but seriously, Logan is really hard (but still fun) to write. Anyways, as always, I do not own any bit of Veronica Mars, just some of this plot. Rob Thomas is a god. And a couple of random spoilers through out the last two seasons, so just to be safe, up to 2.01 Oh, and wasn't this weeks episode just awesome? Lamb is so awesome.  
feedback love

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October 7, 2003 

I think I've reached something beyond a hangover. I've been sitting on the bathroom floor, beside the toilet, smelling of puke and Jack Daniels scented clothes, thinking of a name for this brand spanking new feeling of sickness. Somehow, fuckyouJackDanielssuperhangover doesn't seem catchy enough.

Alcohol and I is a love-hate relationship, kind of like Lilly and I were. Jack Daniels and I usually spend an awfully amazing night together filled with stupid stunts, and pointless make-outs and then the next day he would kick me in the ass, sending me puking in the toilet. Still, I consider Jack Daniels one of my bestest buddies.

Along the same lines, what the hell was wrong with Duncan yesterday? From what I remember, which really isn't a lot, not a word came from his mouth. He stood their, frozen in time, beside the devil and her husband, not saying anything, not doing anything but staring straight ahead at a blank spot in the distance.

And what the hell was I thinking? My brain hurts from thinking about it. Did I really cry yesterday? Did I really spend the whole funeral service gripping onto Mars' hand? Something more Twilight Zone material: Did she really kiss my cheek yesterday afternoon before she left?

I really think the hangover is starting to screw with my brain. But hey, it's better to think about this than Lilly.

October 3, 2004

Just finished flipping through the videos for the memorial thing coming up next week. When I see Lilly having so much fun, being so…Lilly, it makes me want to sit down like I always do when she comes through my mind and drink, drink, drink it all away.

I want to drink away her laugh, her smile, and her stupid antics. Drink away the memories from Homecoming last year, from Spring Break, Christmas, my birthday…everything. I can hear a voice call out that didn't sound like my own, "Oh, Jack…"

I sit here in the parking lot, feeling a bit Mark David Chapman, except I swear; I'm not planning on killing. I see Veronica Mars standing at Lilly's grave for the past twenty minutes holding a tiny, pink, flowery monstrosity. And I feel anger.

It's her fault Lilly broke up with me. It's her fault she was alone a year ago. It's her fault Lilly was dissected by some Grissom-like character. It's her fault she buried six feet under. It's all fucking-Veronica Mars' fault.

Wouldn't mind getting that weekly visit from Jack 'bout now…

October 4, 2005

I see Ronnie walking away slowly towards Duncan and I'm glad their backs are turned to me. I'm seconds away from lashing out the wrath of Logan and honestly, I can see Veronica giving me that evil eye and snark to focus my anger on her, not her ex-best friend's grave.

As I finally see her junk-on-wheels drive out of the parking lot, I slowly, slowly, start to cry. At first it's a few tears of sadness and remorse that Aaron fucking killed her but then it gets angry because it wasn't Veronica's fault, it was Lilly's fault. It was the fucking bitch's fault for being such a whore.

I stop thinking then because no matter what Lilly did to me, I still loved her. I think I'll always love her, no matter how long she's been dead or how much I love her best friend.

October 3, 2006

She pissed away an hour on buying that stupid bouquet. When I asked about it, all she said was, "I need to get it right, Logan."

So I let her "get it right."

Duncan was already there when I drove into the parking lot. We haven't talked since school started; I've been busy. I'm taking writing classes and working on some plots. Veronica says Lynn would be proud.

We stand by her grave in our little trio; Veronica slightly crying and giving tiny pinches as I held her hand, Duncan's eyes looking at ease, and I was planted in between the two of them feeling…relieved.

Things are looking up. For the first time in years, things are looking up.

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Should I continue? Who's POV should I do next? Review and let me know. 3 xo 


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